As The Ice Melts
by GNess
Summary: Short story. Hermione's life flashes through her eyes and her one regret is that she never told Draco how she feels about him.


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As The Ice Melts

When death is upon your door, you see your life flash through your eyes in a series of images not unlike a movie reel. You see yourself at your very first birthday party wearing a fluffy pink dress with your smiling parents by your sides; you see yourself at age two, crying because you've skinned your knee while trying to walk, but really waddling; age three at your family's cabin by the lake, happy, tan and giggling as your father tickles you; age four you're playing tricks on your grandmother by hiding her glasses beneath the couch cushions, when she ends up sitting on them you get reprimanded to the fullest extent of your family's law. At age five you start school in your brand new outfit, you're so excited and scared at the same time that you cry when your mom leaves you at the classroom door. When you hit puberty you're a mishmash of emotions…when you're eleven you get a letter that changes your life forever. You can still see that letter clear as day, can still remember the words on the parchment.

'We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'

You had no idea you were a witch, but it was a pleasant surprise.

Your journey to Hogwarts is a memorable one. You meet your two new best friends: Harry Potter (the boy who lived) and Ron Weasley (the boy with flaming red hair). As you grow at Hogwarts, you become well known for your intelligence and you help Harry stop Lord Voldemort from regaining power.  
  
There is a power in friendship that you did not know about until you met Harry Potter.

At age twelve, you're in your second year at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy is your enemy; he hates you, Harry and Ron. You try not to show that you care, but deep down it hurts you. No one has ever disliked you so much in your entire life. You can almost feel the hatred radiating off of his intriguing sneer.   
  
Once again, you help Harry to escape Lord Voldemort while also being near death. You are celebrated as a hero and Harry Potter sidekick. You love it.

Third year brings the third time you face evil with Harry. This time, you have a more active roll in it. As your life passes you by, you see that this was the year you'd chose to forget. It was packed with too much chaos, sadness and fright.

The last image you see is one of Draco Malfoy smiling at you. You try desperately to remember if the image is from a reoccurring dream of if it is real. You want for it to be real, but you highly doubt that's possible.

As the wand pushes itself harder against your neck, you whimper and instead of wanting to say goodbye to Harry and Ron, you want to tell Draco your true feelings.

The feelings that showed themselves when you were fifteen, two years ago. You'd suddenly come into your own as a person, you were no longer a show-off and Draco Malfoy was a very good looking wizard. He captivated you while also annoying the bloody hell out of you. His looks were more than enchanting now and his intelligence was mind-boggling. For the son of a very evil wizard, he sure had a lot going for him. You suddenly remember, as your fingers and toes go cold, that you wanted so dreadfully to kiss his full lips every time you saw him. The feelings scared you and made you angry, so you lashed out at him. He didn't seem to notice the change in the temperature of your feelings. He didn't seem to notice you as anything more than a Mudblood.

A prang in your heart alerts you to the first time he called you that, with such venom. The word still rings in your ears and you push it out quickly.

"Any last words?" His cold voice asks, bringing you back from your reverie. You are very aware that you're in a dungeon, on a cold, hard tabletop…you're going to die. The bruises you'd received when he'd dragged you around are beginning to pound with intense pain.

You close your eyes, trying hard to blink away the tears that are forming. The only thing you think of now is how you cannot let him see you cry…you must not show weakness. Especially right at this moment.

Light streams through, illuminating your face; you keep your eyes closed. But where is the light coming from? You can no longer feel the wand at your throat. There is a thud and then there is no sound but your own, ragged breathing.

"Am I dead?" You say aloud, your eyes still closed. If you opened them, you'd see the white light…you're not prepared to die. Not yet. You had so much to live for.

"You're not dead," says a voice above you. A voice that sends shivers down your spine, in a good way. It's not Lucius any longer. It's his son. You feel a cold hand grabbing your arm gently. Your eyes fly open and you see him, his head surrounded in light like some sort of evil angel.

You sit up, "Dr---Draco?"

"Yes," he says, jumping up to the table and sitting by your feet.

"What's going on?" You ask, blinking at the light. Draco mutters something that shuts the door to the dungeon, closing the light out. "Did you save me?"

Draco chuckles, sounding very much unlike himself, "I believe so, yes."

You stare at him, trying to process what's going on. "Why?"

Draco shrugs, putting his wand in his robe pocket. "I don't know."

You notice that his hand is still on your arm; without warning, your other hand clasps his and he gasps. His gray eyes search yours for a few moments before a very tiny smile pushes its way onto his lips.

"Thank you," you say quietly, almost in a whisper. You wonder what to do now. Do you just get up and leave? Do you ask about Harry and Ron? All you really want to do is kiss him, but you know this is unacceptable. He does not love you.

"Potter and Weasley are still at Hogwarts, no doubt having some sort of heart attack. They didn't know how to Apparate here. Obviously. I don't think they know I came. I didn't think to tell them, actually. I was standing near them when they realized my father had kidnapped you…I didn't even have a thought in my brain besides, 'GO!' and so I came. Just in time, it seems." Draco shook his head and you notice there are tears making their way down his cheeks. "Why did he do that?"

"How did you stop him?" You ask in response.

Draco's eyebrows go up and he grins, "That wasn't the hard part. The hard part was finding which dungeon he'd taken you to. All I did was kick him in the back of the leg. Father has very weak legs…he fell over immediately. I dragged him into another dungeon and locked it up." He shrugged as if this were not a big deal. You stare at him in awe. "Well, don't gawk, Granger."

"Sorry," you say swiftly. "He, uh, kidnapped me because…Pansy found my diary. I imagine she sent it to him. Probably had a good laugh over it beforehand."

"She's a wench," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Why would something in your diary make him want to kill you?"

"Oh," you laugh uneasily, "I'm not entirely sure, really."  
  
"Liar," Draco said, a hint of a smile on his lips still, "I figured it was because he'd gotten the letter I sent him." He shrugged, then stared at her suddenly, like his mouth had run away with him. He hadn't seemed to mean to say that.

"What was in the letter?" You ask him quietly, sitting up, your hand still on his. His hand, even though it was cold, was warming yours up nicely.

"I was denouncing the Dark Lord." Draco replied, not looking at you. His eyes were glued to the stone wall. "I got an owl from Father a week ago…they were going to initiate me. I wanted nothing to do with it. I shouldn't even be telling you this."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Death Eaters, once initiated have to marry another Death Eater. I didn't want that. I wanted something else."

Your eyes grow wide as you realize what he's saying. As if your lips have a mind of their own (they probably do) they are on his in a split second. At first he is unresponsive, but his arms go around you, pulling you closer. Your whole body is warmed now, despite the frigid air.

You pull away a minute later and search his face, his lips are red and swollen, his hair is tousled where you'd been running your hands through it. You wonder about your own appearance. He leans forward, wanting to kiss you more, it seems, but you pull back.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"No, I--I wanted to tell you something before we go any further."  
  
He leans back, running a hand through his hair.

You scoot closer to him on the table so that you are now sitting directly beside him with your legs dangling over the side. "I love you."

Draco stares at you as if you've lost your mind. You wonder fleetingly if you have. Then, before you can take it back, he presses his lips to yours…his actions speaking far more than his words ever could.

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A/N: Man, that made me feel so much better. I was DYING to write some Draco/Hermione. Simply dying. Lol. I hope you liked it, review and let me know! Because I might continue with it!

If I did do more, this part would become a prologue so that I can start the actual story in first person or whatever, instead of using "you" all the time, which annoys me if its used for an entire story.


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